


Concerning Dwarf Hair

by Phiso



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Childhood, Ered Luin, Family time, Fluff, Gen, braiding, mines, the blue mountains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phiso/pseuds/Phiso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli have always been very close, and as such there is no topic that they have ever shied away from - including the topic of hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fusion of movie!canon and Tolkien!canon, using the movie's descriptions and Tolkien's history and culture with a side of my own guesses. Since Tolkien didn't provide much in regards to the Dwarves' culture or timelines (though what he does provide I do my best to incorporate), I decided to use boysofjollystreet's calculations of Dwarf age. Basically, as you read this, note that in my head, a Dwarf turns the human version of 18 in their late 70s, and work off of that. 
> 
> Thanks to Apple and Kris for the betas, and Emi and Apple for the timeline help!

It started when they were very young.

It was on one of those days when their uncle brought them a short way up the mountain, teaching them how to recognize specific plants and how to start a fire with anything they could get their hands on. Young and precocious at twenty-nine and thirty-four, the two brothers would have appeared to Men as small children, and indeed by Dwarf standards they were. They were also of noble birth, being the sister-sons of the King of Durin's Folk, so one might expect them to be kept safe behind stone, but Thorin wasn't going to have that, much to his nephews’ delight. When it came to life outside of the mines and dwarf settlements, Fíli and Kíli were very curious for their race.

The pair had been sent to fetch the driest sticks they could find to practice kindling fires, which was a much harder task than usual thanks to the rainfall from earlier that morning. They tried to turn the search into a race, but it was a slow one, and they soon gave that up in lieu of some idle chatter.

"Why did it have to rain?" Kíli complained, wandering around in small circles poking piles of sticky-wet leaves with his foot. "This would've been easier yesterday."

"He's trying to teach us," Fíli said patiently, crouching down to inspect a stick as Kíli scowled and kicked his leaves. "Kicking them won't make them any drier."

"I bet elves could make them dry with some spell," Kíli mumbled, going back to poking around. "Or a wizard. A wizard wouldn't even need sticks, would he?"

"I don't know," said Fíli thoughtfully, tucking some of his thick golden locks behind his ear and standing up. "Maybe Uncle knows."

"Hey," said Kíli suddenly, reaching towards his brother's hair. He had spotted something long, dark, and slightly prickly in Fíli's hair, hidden away in the shadows by his neck. "I think you've got a stick in your hair. Did you fall?"

Fíli leaned back and slapped Kíli's hand away, scowling. "I did not! If you must know, I - " Fíli's face turned an odd shade of pink, and Kíli watched him with interest. "I - it's a plait," he finished in a dignified voice. "Mother was too busy this morning to do anything nice with my hair, so I thought I'd try one."

There was a brief silence before Kíli burst into laughter, making Fíli turn a bright red.

"That's supposed to be a plait?" Kíli was beside himself with glee. "It looks like a bird tried to nest in your hair and left before it was done. No wonder you hid it away."

"It's just fine!" Fíli snapped, hurriedly brushing his hands through his hair to hide it again. "It's not like you know how, either!"

"You should ask Ma or Da to teach you," Kíli said, still grinning. "Or maybe Uncle? He doesn't plait his hair much, but I know he can - loads better than you, for sure."

"Shut up," Fíli mumbled as their uncle called for them. "Come on."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers learn to plait hair properly, though their progress is not always a welcome sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing around with my writing style, so this should read differently from chapter one. Hopefully not in a bad way. I also chose not to name any characters not already named by Tolkien as I don't want to insult Dwarvish culture by making up or choosing poor names. Alas!
> 
> Thanks to Kris and Apple for all the edits and advice!

It was at thirty and thirty-five that Fíli and Kíli were taught how to make a proper plait, one any dwarf would be proud to wear. Fíli enjoyed watching his brother's hair being prepared, and in doing so had learned the fundamentals to plaiting. He was even experimenting with his own hair, though that was partially because Kíli, after seeing Fíli's first attempt, had refused to let his brother practice on him. Kíli was not so interested in hair, however, and so was starting fresh.

"It is a simple process," said his father, sitting patiently on the floor as Kíli tugged on his hair. The warm light from the hearth made the older dwarf's hair and beard shine like coveted gold. "The outer strand crosses the center one, becoming the new center. Then this is repeated on the other side, and continues on to the end."

"Should it look like this?" Kíli said with a frown, showing his father a portion of hair that looked closer to rope than a plait.

The dwarf studied the plait in his hair carefully before chuckling and shaking his head. "You made it in the style of the elves," he commented, peering at his youngest son. "Was this your purpose?"

"I was just trying to do it like you said," mumbled Kíli, turning pink.

"Let's do it together this time," said his father, undoing Kíli's work and arranging it so he and his son both had a different half of his golden hair to hold. "All right, watch closely..."

Fíli, for his part, had mastered the basic plait, both in another's and his own hair, and was now watching his mother demonstrate different methods on their uncle's hair. Thorin looked like a king on his throne as he occupied his usual fur-trimmed chair; Dís stood behind him, the height difference perfect. Fíli, who was too small to see properly, had been brought a stool to stand upon to improve his vantage point.

"Now," said Dís, dividing Thorin's hair into five, "this five-strand plait is very complicated, but if done right, it makes for a majestic beard."

"This is a difficult plait to master; not many dwarves have done so. Be sure to study her hands carefully," Thorin advised his nephew, and Fíli drew closer.

"I'm going to show you with his full head, first, and then if you feel up to the challenge we can share his mane and plait together. And be still, brother, for this plait takes a more delicate hand. First, the outer strand goes over," Dís said, her hands moving smoothly, "then under... "

The braid proved too complicated for Fíli's hands to learn right away, but he continued to practice it on his own hair, and on occasion his father's and uncle's, until he mastered it. This just so happened to be some months later on the day Kíli convinced him to plait nails into young Gimili's hair.

"At least he mastered the technique," said their father optimistically that evening after dinner. Glóin's family had been invited to a fine evening meal, and while the adults had been chattering happily by the fire, their sons had run off to play. They had not been pleased to have their conversation interrupted by a cry of pain as Gimli had been embraced by his mother and unknowingly pricked her in multiple places.

"Not quite in the manner I had anticipated," Dís said with a weary sigh. "I do apologize," she said to their guests. "I assure you, we do not encourage this kind of behavior in our sons, despite my husband's inappropriately high spirits." She fixed him with a stern look, which he returned with a sheepish smile. "We expect much more from the heirs of Durin."

"With sons, mischief comes soon enough," said Glóin with a wry smile, "and one is all the wiser when it is done. Before we know it, they will be channeling their energy into training, and if their skill with a weapon is anything like their talent for trouble, I am sure there will be many more songs sung about the line of Durin." 

There was a yelp from the other room, followed by a cry of protest, and the four parents turned towards the source.

"If you insist on plaiting things in unwelcomed, you're going to remove them," they heard Thorin growl at the boys. "And silently; you are not to bother your parents with the fruit of your misdeed."

"And with Thorin Oakenshield as their uncle," added Glóin, chuckling, "their wisdom will arrive twice as swift."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli go down to the mines for the first time and meet a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Apple for the beta and the help with the culture stuff!

A Dwarf is a Dwarf, no matter what their status, and as such there will always be a great love for the smell of the earth and the solid touch of stone. The nobility of Erebor may have forsaken the desire to dig deep for their stronger love of simply admiring the shine of gold, but in the Blue Mountains even Durin's own blood was going into the mines again.

While not all dwarves were professional miners, it was not uncommon for a dwarf to be skilled in extracting minerals from the mountains, and when the Longbeards arrived west to the iron-rich Ered Luin, settling in the remains of the old fortress Belegost, known as Gabilgathol in the Dwarvish tongue, it was not difficult for them to find a living.

Had Thorin's sister-sons been born in Erebor, they could have been kept from the mines and schooled in the ways of politics and diplomacy. As it was, Fíli and Kíli had a father who loved working in the mines and an uncle who was not only a warrior but a blacksmith as well, and thus learned about all aspects of the mountain, from the forests above to the rock below. 

Dís always insisted that her sons learn about as much of their culture as possible; no heirs of Durin would live ignorant to the ways of their folk. Tradition was as important to their heritage as it was to their way of life, and Dís made her brother promise he would teach the princes all he knew as King, including how to forge weaponry. Before they could learn how to weld a sword, however, they had to learn where the iron came from.

"Stay close to your father," she warned her boys their first morning to the mines. "Mines are as beautiful as they are dangerous."

"Yes, mother," they chorused back.

Their father smiled. "I'll keep a close watch on them," he assured his wife, and gave her a loving kiss on her cheek before leaving with his sons. Dís playfully slapped his arm, chastising him for the breach of propriety, before giving his cheek a kiss of her own.

The young dwarves, thirty-three and thirty-eight at the time, normally would have filled the early morning stillness with chatter and laughter, but this particular day they felt the occasion too solemn to break with idle sound. Their father was not surprised.

"I was quiet my first day to the mines, as well," he said with a smile as they walked, holding his son's hands as they went. "Mines have always been important to our people. You can feel the history of the mountain in the rock beneath your feet and the air in the tunnels. Time stops when you enter a mine, and all at once you feel ageless and yet young as a sapling."

Fíli and Kíli listened in awe, taking in every word like soil absorbing water. Their father's golden hair looked strangely grey in the light, giving him the air of an old wizard telling the ancient secrets of the stone around them.

"The mines are different in every mountain range. Your first mine will be the old home of some of the finest smiths and stone-carvers Middle-Earth has ever seen. Chain-mail was forged in these halls," he continued, "along with many other - oh!" He stopped walking, and the two young dwarves followed suit, so enraptured by his words that they would have tripped over their own boots had their hands not been held. Their hearts pounded in their chests as he brought them close, whispering, "My sons, we have arrived."

The mine was dark as they entered, with something in the air glittering like stars on a cloudy night. As they walked in their eyes adjusted quickly, and it became clear that the stars were reflections of mined iron and the shine of pick-axes, dulled by dust like an unpolished mirror. Before them was a chasm lined with tunnels and rigs, extending far down into the belly of the mountain. Some dwarves mined in the tunnels, gathering the fruit of their labors in carts, while others hung along the wall of rock, carrying bags and pails at their hips filled with their loot. While it was quiet, voices occasionally called across the void, with a melody or two quietly slipping through the enormous silence. The temperature around them increased the further down they went, and as they did the darkness somehow grew as well. They felt small, insignificant, and yet like giants all at once: they were the earth's special folk, chosen to receive her secrets and her wealth. The very air around them felt as old as time.

"What's this? Two little ones? Most don't start this early," said an unknown voice, and Fíli and Kíli jumped. Their father had spoken naught a word as he led them through, allowing them to take everything in, and while they had heard echoes of voices as they walked, the sudden proximity of this one felt like shouting in such a place.

"My sons, Fíli and Kíli," their father introduced proudly. "It is their first time in a mine."

"Ah," said the dwarf knowingly, "and a lovely mine, at that." He winked at the pair; Fíli managed a shy smile back, but Kíli continued to stare in surprise. "The heart of Gabilgathol is a sight to see, even to those of us who frequent it often."

Still unable to speak, Fíli merely nodded, nudging Kíli as he did so; Kíli quickly nodded as well.

"My name's Bofur," the dwarf continued. "Feel free to find me any time you come to the mines, though I warn you there are some days where the din is so loud you'd be lucky if you could hear yourself think. It is early yet, today, or late, I suppose, as some dwarves prefer to work through the night. But I like to think I can hear my name when it is called, whatever the hour. If I'm not around, feel free to call for my cousin, Bifur. He's around here on occasion."

"What does he look like?" Fíli managed to ask.

"Bifur's hair looks much like mined iron, with splashes of grey in the black, and an axe in his head." Bofur laughed at the boys' expressions, as did their father. "Came from one of the old battles, nothing from the mines. I wouldn't worry about your father," he added, wrapping an arm around their father's shoulder. "He's in no danger from an axe, here."

As they said their good-byes and continued on with their visit, Fíli asked their father, "Is Bofur one of Durin's Folk?"

"Bofur's line comes from the mines of Khazad-dûm," their father answered. "Why do you ask?"

"His...his hair was just styled differently, is all," Fíli said lamely, face pink. Kíli looked at his brother, curious.

"You have a good eye, Fíli," said their father. "Different houses and dwarves of various occupations have different traditions, so I am not surprised you noticed the way he plaited his hair. It would not be a style found often used in the house of Durin, which has few miners in its line."

"Why am I not surprised," said Kíli under his breath, and Fíli turned to his brother confused.

"What do you mean?" Fíli asked quietly, not wanting to burden their father with an argument on such an important day.

Kíli turned to Fíli and studied his face for a moment before shaking his head and smiling. "Only you would notice his hair, brother."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to the market with their father and receive both wisdom and gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Apple for the beta!

It was an ordinary day, much like any other, filled with potential but not much else. Fíli and Kíli were seated at the table, still in their nightclothes and merrily eating their breakfasts, wondering what they were going to fill the hours with that particular day. They had just deciding to bring out their wooden swords and practice sparring when their father entered the room.

“Hurry, boys, we’ll need to be going soon.”

The brothers, who had believed their father to be at the mines already, paused their breakfasts to look to their father with identical expressions of surprise and interest.

“Go?” Fíli asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Go where?” Kíli finished, doing the same.

“Your mother has lovingly watched over you, day after day, with little respite,” said their father in a lofty voice, walking towards the table with a tankard of ale in his hand. “I believe it would do her well to have a day of her own, and it is for that reason that I am taking you to the market - “

“The market?” the brothers exclaimed, interrupting their father and sitting up straighter in their excitement. The market had always been a favorite locale of theirs - Fíli and Kíli considered it another world within their own, or perhaps surrounding it, where adult dwarves spent much of their time crafting things with skills they could only dream of - but were not allowed there as often as they would like. They were too small, they were told, and too mischievous for their own good; it was reasoned the two young dwarves could get lost or hurt among all the shops, and they were far too important a treasure to lose so carelessly. As a result, going to the market was always a special treat.

“Yes,” their father chuckled, aware of their fascination with the place. “We leave in less than an hour’s time, so move swiftly. We do not want the best items to sell before we arrive.”

“What do you need to purchase, Da?” Fíli said, his spoon still. Kíli, for his part, had begun shoveling his food into his mouth at an almost frightening speed.

“Not that swiftly, Kíli,” their father laughed, patting Kíli’s shoulder to slow him down. “You are not a bag you can simply stuff. And as for our purchases, I shall tell you more once we have departed. Now, finish your meals.”

Fíli and Kíli, filled with the energy of the young, were exploding with movement the moment they stepped out the door. The two would often run ahead on the path in anticipation, chattering away as they did, before being called back by their laughing father; one might think they were competing to see who could say the most words in one breath. It was in this strange way that they both followed and led their father as he walked at steady pace, carrying a thick, heavy cloth bag slung over one shoulder.

It wasn’t until they arrived that the boys finally stopped prattling away, their eyes so wide as they stared that it seemed to not give their mouths enough room to speak. The market was the most colorful part of their settlement, filled with dwarves of all ages wearing all types of garb passing in and out of doorways and stopping by stands to inspect the produce or chat with the merchant. It wasn’t until their father stopped walking and they ran into his legs that they remembered that they were there for a purchase.

“Good morning!” said their father in a jovial voice as he paused in the doorway of a dark shop. Fíli and Kíli hesitated just long enough to spot a shop's stand with a display of toys next door and promptly forgot about the dark doorway, heading instead to their newfound trove.

"Look!" breathed Kíli, picking up a dark wooden horse figurine with a soft tail and mane. Wooden animals were quite common as toys, but such embellishments were extremely rare. He turned it in his fingers, admiring how the additions shined. "It's got real hair!"

His interest piqued, Fíli followed his brother's lead and selected a lighter horse, examining it before holding it up to his nose so that it faced his brother. The light horse bounced in place as he made a poor excuse for a horse's neigh and Kíli laughed.

"I call that one Daisy," said a voice startlingly close by, and the two boys jumped and quickly put the toys back on the display, their faces struggling to convey nothing but innocence. The shopkeeper stood up from behind the stand and folded his arms on the edge, leaning on it. 

Fíli and Kíli let out twin gasps. "Mister Bofur!"

"'Lo there, boys," Bofur said with an easy smile. "Haven't seen you in the mines since your first visit a few months ago. You not gone back?"

"Mother says it's not safe for us," said Fíli in his best grown-up voice, and Bofur laughed.

"Well, then, best listen to your mother," Bofur said with a smile, tapping the side of his nose with a finger. "She knows best."

"Mister Bofur," said Fíli, frowning slightly, "I thought you worked in the mines?"

"Why are you at this shop? Are you purchasing something?" Kíli asked, thinking of their father. Fíli nudged him hard then, and Kíli, rightly taking it as a signal that he had spoken out of turn, ducked his head apologetically. 

"I share it with Bifur," Bofur explained easily, his tone unoffended. "Family business, you could say. He doesn't mine often - that axe in his head makes it difficult - but when he gets in the mood I take over in the shop for him."

"Did he make these?" Fíli asked, peering at the horses again.

"I made those," Bofur replied with a proud smile.

"I thought you were a miner," said Kíli, still confused.

"Oh, I am," said Bofur, "but I like to make toys, too. I use some of the money from the iron I find to buy supplies, such as the hair you were appreciating earlier. Got it from a trader in Bree last week."

"You go through so much trouble," said Fíli, his brow also furrowed. "Why, if you could simply use the iron to make weapons or trade it for other things?"

"Because I love to make these toys," said Bofur, speaking as if it was the plainest thing in the world. "It's like singing, or playing music. I could put that money to use somewhere more serious, but where's the fun in that? You do what you love because it makes you happy, not necessarily because it puts supper on the table. Though ideally," he added as an afterthought, "it could do both."

Fíli and Kíli considered these words as Bofur waited patiently, waving occasionally at passersby. Finally, Fíli asked, "Does Mister Bifur make toys, as well?"

"Why, of course!" said Bofur. "He made - ah, where is it..." He ducked back behind the display for a moment before reappearing with a ferocious wooden dragon, its back twisted and jaws open menacingly with rows and rows of sharp teeth. It was so frightening that the two boys stepped back upon facing it, eyes wide with awe.

Bofur laughed as he gently set it aside the pair of horses. "He makes some odd things, but they're well-made. No one carves better toy dragons than my cousin Bifur."

"Well, your horses are very nice, too," said Fíli politely, and Bofur beamed.

"Take a pair," he told them, nodding towards the display. They immediately refused, knowing their mother, father, and uncle would not approve of them taking toys as gifts in such a manner, but Bofur was not swayed. "Really, go on," he insisted, flicking his wrist twice in encouragement. "Take one each. Consider it a late birthday present ."

"That's very kind of you, but I am unsure if you should reward greedy fingers," said a familiar voice behind them, and the brothers turned to see their father approaching. "Thank you for watching them, Bofur. They have a bad habit of doing without asking permission first." The brothers squirmed guilty.

"You've got good boys, here," said Bofur with a smile. "They deserve the best, so why not give them my own? Really," he said firmly, noticing the other dwarf reach for his purse, "the pleasure is all mine. Just send Dís my well-wishes and consider this my thank you for last week."

Fíli and Kíli watched curiously as their father slowly nodded and moved his hand from his purse to Kíli's shoulder. "You're a good dwarf, Bofur."

Bofur put a coy hand on his cheek as if he were blushing and waved them away. "Oh, you."

"What did you get, Da?" asked Kíli after they had said their good-byes, clutching the dark wooden horse Bofur had dubbed Ebony against his chest with one arm.

"Your mother needs more silver," he answered, leading his sons by their free hands. "She's been preoccupied enough making chainmail, but I know she longs to work with precious metals again." He sighed as though remembering a beautiful dream. "No one can weave metal like your mother can."

Just then, they arrived at their next destination, a shop whose walls were covered in shelves holding boots of all shapes, sizes, and makes. "Stay close to me, you two," their father instructed. "I need your help with something."

"Our help?" repeated Fíli.

"With what?" asked Kíli.

"I am surprising your mother with a new pair of boots and want to know which you think she would like best," he explained as the brothers idly peered at a pair of traveling boots sitting neatly on one of the many display tables in the shop. 

"Why are you buying Ma so many gifts?" Fíli asked as Kíli clumsily had his wooden horse bump into the pair with its nose. "Is it a special day?"

Their father's expression softened, and he stroked his son's golden hair with a gentle hand. "I want to see her smile. That's enough of a reason."

Kíli turned at those words, both boys giving him smiles of their own, and without warning their father scooped them both up in a flurry of giggles and laughter and gave them each a fuzzy, tickling kiss on their brows and cheeks. "Now then, boys," he said, looking at each of them in turn. "Do you have any ideas?"

After spending some time comparing designs, warmth, and hue, they finally settled on a pair of soft suede boots the color of cedar, perfect for walking around inside their home. After making the purchase and leaving the shop, they wandered around for some time before the boys were distracted by a shop's exterior stand filled with baskets. Believing them to be toys, they ran towards them only to discover they were not toys or sweets, but rather hair accessories.

"Oh," Kíli sighed, his face falling. "It's just more hair stuff."

"Look at this one," breathed Fíli as he fished a bead out of a basket, speaking as though he hadn't heard his younger brother. He held it up to the light and admired the way the silver design contrasted against the black paint.

"Not interested, are we, Kíli?" chucked their father as he caught up, content with being left behind by his sons so long as he could keep a close watch on them.

Kíli chose to pout rather than respond, and was soon entertaining himself by making his wooden horse trot over the mountains of beads instead. Fíli and their father continued to look through the various baskets, studying the different shapes and sizes the beads and clasps came in.

"Excuse me," spoke up their father after a few minutes of this, addressing the shopkeeper organizing her display. She was a young thing with a pretty face and an elaborate hair style that made nice use of her thick sideburns. "But do you have another one of these?"

"Let me see." Holding out her hand, she studied the hair piece once it was turned over, searching her memory for any information on her creation. It was square, with two vertical gleaming edges, a modest but strong design in the center, and a clasp. "Ah!" She finally nodded in satisfaction. "Yes, I do, just one other. I made a matching set quite some time ago. Not sure why they were separated..." She rummaged through one of the other baskets before locating it and presenting them both to her potential customer. "Here we go. The designs are inverted," she described, pointing it out the horizontal edges with her finger, "to show that while they are clearly not the same, they are still brothers."

Fíli watched their father study them for a moment before nodding. "I'll take them."

"Another gift for Ma?" he asked as their father paid.

"They are a gift, but not for her," the older dwarf responded. Once they had been purchased, he turned to his sons with a smile. "They're a gift for you. The both of you."

Kíli was drawn from of his playing by those words, surprised. "For us? But you said it wasn't a special day today."

"You two are my sons," he said, kneeling down so that they were all eye-level. He placed his strong hands on the tops of their heads, gazing at them with pride and affection. "That is reason enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that there are not many dwarf children due to a lack of dwarf women, so selling toys isn't particularly lucrative business. Also note that I based their clip designs on a HD screenshots and what costume design production photos I could find online.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli wants Fíli to help him learn a song on the fiddle, but Fíli's a bit preoccupied already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Apple, [zealousprince](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zealousprince), and [Athena Ergane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena_Ergane) for the beta and help!

"Fíli, come sing for me!"

"I'm occupied."

The wind's chill coming in from the mountain door had dropped the temperature across their settlement, making it an exceptionally cold, dreary autumn day, the sort that made even the most adventurous souls take comfort in the warmth of a strong hearth and a thick blanket. After much negotiation involving promises and sworn oaths, the heirs of the household had the day and their home to themselves: their mother was visiting a friend, and their father was spending the afternoon in the mines, taking advantage of his recent streak of good fortune to search for more high-quality iron. 

Kíli had chosen to practice the fiddle, which he had received earlier that year from his father for his thirty-third birthday. It was a fine fiddle, made in Rohan but obtained in Bree, and served as the brother to Fíli's own fiddle, who had received a similar model for his thirty-eighth. They had been promised new fiddles once their reach had outgrown these, but only if their skills proved the purchase worth it. Kíli had fallen in love with the instrument the moment he had heard his father play it as a much younger child and had felt his heart fill with joy and awe when he cradled it in his arms for the first time; since then, he was determined to show his father it was a gift well-entrusted. Kíli had hoped his brother would join him in practice, but Fíli had opted to pore over some maps Thorin brought a week prior instead. Kíli, who had stationed himself in their bedroom, was not satisfied with this decision, and made his opinion as clear as possible.

"Those maps are not going to run away the moment they leave your watchful eye," Kíli called, making sure his voice carried over to the reading room where Fíli was studying. "I'm not even asking you to play anymore, I'm just asking for a melody - "

"Kíli," said Fíli back warningly, but Kíli did not care to heed his tone.

"Durin's Day is coming in less than a fortnight! How am I to learn father's favorite drinking song for the celebrations if there isn't anyone around to sing the words?" Kíli complained. "You know I've just started, I cannot do both yet. Please?"

"Later," Fíli responded, sounding uncommitted, and Kíli decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. Setting his fiddle carefully down on a chair, Kíli crept to the reading room, pretending he was an elf slipping through the woods unheard. He was prepared to pull a map out from under his brother's nose if it came to such, but when Kíli arrived, Fíli wasn't there.

"Fíli?" he whispered, but there was no response. It was then that he noticed that the maps hadn't been disturbed since the day his uncle had brought them home . Knowing Fíli had to be nearby, he continued on towards the sitting area, wondering why Fíli had lied to him about the maps. The sitting room was empty as well, and Kíli proceeded to explore every room after that, determined to find his brother. It wasn't until Kíli had found him that he understood.

In their parents' bedroom chamber there was a fine mirror made of speculum metal, an alloy created by fusing copper and tin. It was an old mirror, made back in the days when Durin's Folk still lived in Erebor, and it was one of the family's greatest treasures. Standing in front of it was Fíli, who was concentrating on plaiting his hair.

Kíli gave his brother a minute or so, just to see if he'd be noticed, before saying, "You could always have Ma do it, you know."

Fíli nearly jumped out of his skin before turning on his brother, face scarlet. Kíli was the only one who could ever make Fíli feel embarrassed about his preoccupation with appearances, hair in particular."What are you doing here?" he demanded to know, though the ferocity of his words was dampened by the plait held in his mouth. "I thought you were practicing the fiddle!"

"I was, but like I said, it's hard to practice a song if you cannot remember the melody that goes with it," Kíli replied, still staring at his brother. He cocked his head. "Why are you eating your hair?"

"I'm not - " Fíli sighed in exasperation before arranging it so there was a braid in each of his hands. "I'm not eating it, I just needed to hold it while I made the other one."

"I thought you were studying maps," said Kíli innocently, believing his words would cause his brother to squirm once more. He was right.

"What do you care?" Fíli turned back to the mirror, his face still pink but his brow set. "Leave me to work, pest; I'm trying to figure this out."

"Are you trying to combine them?" Kíli asked, moving forward to his brother's side.

Fíli paused before responding: "It's harder than it looks."

"Do you want me to hold the other one?"

Fíli recognized it as the apology Kíli intended it to be. "I've almost got it," he said in a muffled voice, "but thank you, my brother. Once I finish with this experiment I will join you in your practice."

Kíli visibly brightened and turned to leave, but hesitated, looking over his shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want help?"

"I want to see if I can do it on my own," Fíli said, and Kíli nodded, understanding. "I'll be there in a moment."

When Bofur unexpectedly arrived that night, it was to a vibrant tune and to two young dwarves with lopsided hairstyles.


End file.
